Seven
thelittleactor
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Seven: Chapter 7


E - Words: 787 - Last Updated: Sep 15, 2011
Story: Closed - Chapters: 37/? - Created: Sep 15, 2011 - Updated: Sep 15, 2011
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Warblers practice came around quicker than lunchtime did, thank goodness. It took all the restraint I had not to pounce on Kurt when he walked in and sat on the leather chaise next to me. He had no idea what he was doing to me, and he leant in to say hi, I could smell his lavender scented moisturiser.
“You smell nice,” I said, without thinking.
It was like time stood still. Did I really just tell Kurt he smelt nice? That’s so crossing the friendship boundary!!!!! You idiot!!!! My inner self was cursing my outer self so much I swear I heard profanities from languages I’d never even heard of.
Kurt looked at me with a small smile and said, “Thanks,” before turning away to face the Warblers council.
I was still cursing myself for being such an idiot. I tried to concentrate on the council, but I couldn’t. So many thoughts were running through my mind. Why couldn’t I control myself?
But not even a second after Kurt had said thanks, he placed his hand on my knee and squeezed it gently, before moving his hand back to where it laid on his lap.
He didn’t even look at me when he did it.
Great. What the hell was I supposed to do from there?
I was so confused. I wondered if that was just a friendly gesture or if it was meant to be something more. I wondered what he’d do if I just took his hand and held it for the rest of the meeting.
But I knew I couldn’t do that. And there were around 15 Warblers expecting me to get up and sing in just a few minutes. They would have seen me if I’d have done that.
So I just sat there, throughout the meeting, contributing where necessary, and hating that I had to get up and move away from Kurt to sing.
“Blaine, what song are you singing?” Wes asked, gavel still in hand.
“...I wanted to sing an acoustic version of Teenage Dream... just me and my guitar, and much slower. Almost as if it’s a different song.”
I felt Kurt’s eyes on me as I said Teenage Dream. I hoped he’d know why I was singing that particular song.
I sat on the stool in the centre of the room and took my guitar. I was so nervous; I wanted this moment to be absolutely perfect. I wanted Kurt to see the hidden meaning in this song.
So I sat there, strumming away on my guitar and singing along slowly. I’d changed the tempo of the song, I’d transposed it down slightly and I basically changed the whole feel of the song. As I sang the last line of lyrics in the song, I looked directly at Kurt.
“...be my Teenage Dream, tonight.”
I looked at him for several moments, smiling softly, before turning to face the other Warblers that were applauding quite loudly.
“That was great, Blaine!” David cheered loudly from behind the council’s desk.
“Yeah! Why didn’t you tell me you were doing that?!” Jeff screeched before slapping me on the back.
“I don’t know, I just kinda decided this morning,” I replied, taking a quick glance at Kurt, who was still sitting in the exact same position, clapping like everyone else, though without looking at me directly.
After my performance, I didn’t have an opportunity to see Kurt until after the Warblers rehearsal (damn Jeff stole my spot next to Kurt). I packed my guitar in its case and went to walk with Kurt upon being dismissed. He just looked at me with those damn beautiful eyes and those beautifully kissable lips (and holy crap, did I fantasise about kissing him?) and said, “Walk me to my car?”
I just nodded, and we walked silently until we escaped the loud halls and reached the student’s parking lot.
“Blaine... your song was really good. Really, really good,” Kurt said as we stood there next to his car.
“Thanks...”
“I have to ask... was there a reason you picked that song?”
I knew I had to respond, but I wasn’t quite ready to reveal my feelings for Kurt just yet. So I decided to take a leaf out of Kurt’s book, and I replied with a cryptic answer.
“It was a song that really... meant something for me.”
It was then I just opened Kurt’s car door, gesturing for him to hop in like a chauffeur would. He laughed at my gesture, and as he climbed in and shut the door, he wound the window down so he could say one last thing.
“Coffee, at seven.”
He smiled the most beautiful smile, with his beautiful eyes smiling too, and reversed out of the carpark without saying another word.
Damn it, I thought. I really am in love with this boy.

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